


hope

by aquamarine_nebula



Series: intermissions [6]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, and realise that viktor is head over heels, i had no plan when i started writing this except the word 'gay' underlined 3 times, pair skating, set between ep 4 and 5, why won't yuuri just open his eyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 06:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10238015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquamarine_nebula/pseuds/aquamarine_nebula
Summary: Viktor didn’t instigate physical affection that often anymore. It was a pity; when he got past the initial shock it was nice. Yuuri's family wasn’t particularly physically affectionate, and even the most stoic still became touch-starved.“We’ll leave the jumps for today, then. Run through the step sequences for your free instead.”Yuuri pressed his lips together before nodding, determination lacing his movements as he began. He heard the ‘hmmph’ with a strike of pride as he jumped the quad-double combination and shot Viktor a smirk that had Viktor biting back a smile.





	

It was when Yuuri wiped out spectacularly on a quad lutz attempt that Viktor finally sighed and said, “Let’s call it a day, Yuuri.”

Yuuri almost bristled and shouted back, but barely kept himself in check. Sure, he’d complained before and Viktor had taken it in his stride (except for that one time he’d put his head to one side with a cocky smirk and replied in Russian before skating away—that had been a long day) but he did try to keep what little temper he had in check. He wanted Viktor to stay as long as possible, and driving him away with petty complaints wouldn’t achieve that in the slightest.

“I’m fine,” he protested instead, picking himself up. Viktor skated to his side and pressed careful fingers to the side of his head.

“Does it hurt at all?”

It was pleasant, really, the warmth of his body so close to Yuuri’s, fingers in his hair. Yuuri hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt, especially when Viktor stared so deeply and unabashedly into his eyes that it was as if he was pulling out his every secret.

 _What is he doing here with me_ , was the first thought in his head as he cast his eyes down, and… honestly, _admired_ the way his top clung to his abs. _Shut up_ , he told the thought, then, _isn’t that my top?_

“No,” he sighed out, and lamented the loss when Viktor’s hand dropped from his hair and he pushed himself back. Was he being too obvious? Probably. Viktor didn’t instigate physical affection that often anymore. It was a pity; when he got past the initial shock it was nice. His family wasn’t particularly physically affectionate, and even the most stoic still became touch-starved.

“We’ll leave the jumps for today, then. Run through the step sequences for your free instead.”

Yuuri pressed his lips together before nodding, determination lacing his movements as he began. He heard the ‘ _hmmph_ ’ with a strike of pride as he jumped the quad-double combination and shot Viktor a smirk that had Viktor biting back a smile.

–

They got into the habit of pair skating after the first time Yuuri landed a quad loop and Viktor excitedly skated over to him and gathered him up in his arms, skating a happy circle whilst Yuuri clung on and laughed. Yuuri kept his arms around Viktor’s neck even once he’d finally let him drop back to the rink and there was a light dusting of pink on Viktor’s cheeks that Yuuri would have done anything to kiss.

“That was beautiful, Yuuri,” he gushed, eyes bright and wide and startlingly blue. Yuuri bit his lip against the words that wanted to force themselves out of his throat.

 _You’re beautiful_ , he let himself think it instead, cupping Viktor’s cheek for a second. Viktor’s eyes flicked to his lips. _Don’t push him away_ , came uninhibited, and rather than telling the voice to shut up, he obeyed, dropping his arms. Viktor’s smile turned a little sad, a little wistful.

The moment didn’t last, and instead he brightened up. “Have you ever tried pair skating?”

Yuuri shook his head. “Phichit and I tried some ice dancing but we didn’t want to risk injuring each other.”

“Do you trust me?” He took Yuuri’s hands and tugged him back gently.

Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat. He’d imagined it, when he’d been young and naïve and just a little infatuated with the man currently cradling his hands against his chest. He’d imagined dancing with him on the ice, on the ground, with Viktor or him leading, being able to hold him close enough to see the striations of colour in his eyes. But those had been the dreams of a teenager. He was an adult now.

“I trust you,” he replied, and let out an ungainly shriek when Viktor picked him up by his waist, scrabbling to balance himself by grabbing at his shoulders. “ _Viktor_ ,” he complained, and Viktor laughed. “Is this going to become a habit? You didn’t even give me a _warning_ this time.”

Viktor smiled innocently. “You said you trusted me.”

He let Yuuri slide down his body back to the ice, and took hold of his elbows to spin them round. Yuuri adjusted automatically when Viktor dipped him; he could feel the strength through his body and knew that he’d be able to lift him back up. His eyes lit up when Yuuri spun him out, keeping a tight hold of his hand to pull him back into the circle of his arms. They skated like that for a moment, Viktor’s back against Yuuri’s chest and Yuuri holding onto his waist, until Viktor turned to wrap his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders.

“We should dance more often,” he stated, watching Yuuri with a soft light in his eyes. He’d never been as expressive in interviews as he was with Yuuri daily. Maybe he wasn’t just saying it, maybe he did want to stay by Yuuri’s side.

 _Until he gets bored_ , he thought. _Shut up_ , he growled in his head, although the thought rushed out of his head when Viktor drifted his hands down Yuuri’s chest, thumbs skimming just under his ribs before clasping at his waist.

“This is your warning!” he said cheerily, a split-second before lifting Yuuri again.

The split-second was just enough. His years of ballet and stint at pole dancing had given him a core to be proud of, so he pushed down the laugh that threatened to bubble out and make him lose his composure, and instead arched his back, lifting one hand and keeping the other on Viktor’s neck. Viktor held him up for a couple of seconds, before placing him down again.

Applause made Yuuri jump, a clattering reminder that there were people that existed beyond Viktor and him. Still, he smiled at Yuuko and laughed into his hand when Viktor gave her a bow with a flourish. “You look so _good_ together,” she said, as three identical faces poked over the barrier.

“You should pair skate more!” Axel exclaimed. The other two nodded.

“Maybe for the Grand Prix final exhibition,” Lutz added.

“Skating fans would _love_ it,” Loop said.

Viktor bounced on his skates. “We should,” he said to Yuuri, hands on his shoulders.

Yuuri tried not to wince. If it was at the GPF exhibition, it would be a farewell dance, right? Yuuri would be retiring and Viktor would go back to Russia, back to competing and capturing everyone’s heart with his skating. “Sure,” he said, forcing a smile even as his heart dropped somewhere below the ice.

 

The video the triplets posted that evening had comments on it that Yuuri didn’t want to think about, although they swam in front of his eyes every time he blinked. It was evenly divided between the people who gushed about how cute they were, and the ones who still wondered why Viktor Nikiforov was wasting time with a no-name Japanese skater. He scrolled through the comments with increasing agitation, until Viktor’s hands closed on his.

They were in Viktor’s room, Viktor reading, leant up against the headboard with his feet in Yuuri’s lap as he hunched over his phone. “Never read the comments, _zolotse_ ,” he said softly.

Yuuri knew that, but he still had a morbid fascination with what exactly was being said about him online.

“You don’t?” he asked. Viktor shook his head.

“I actually lose my confidence fairly quickly if negative things are being said about me.” Yuuri blinked at him. “I’m just good at faking it.”

Yuuri almost asked _what_ exactly Viktor had that would make him lose confidence in himself, but realised just in time that it would probably be a callous thing to say. Especially when Viktor was opening up about himself. Instead, he turned his hand so he could lace their fingers together. He locked his phone and tossed it to one side. “It doesn’t matter what they think anyway,” he said, trying to convince himself.

“Will you sleep here tonight?”

It was the first time he’d asked in a while. Although Yuuri felt the almost itchy need to be alone, to puzzle through the comments and Viktor’s words with maybe only Makkachin for company, there was also a pleasant warmth building through from his core. He wanted to be beside Viktor.

“Okay,” he finally said.

Viktor didn’t respond, other than swinging his legs off Yuuri’s lap so Yuuri could set his phone on the floor beside the bed and get under the covers. They didn’t talk, but Viktor placed a hand on Yuuri’s upper arm, and he could feel his gaze on him even when he was asleep.

–

Yuuri watched with a sort of helpless admiration as Viktor stepped into the dining room in a tight top, one that showed each dip of his abs before frowning.

“That’s definitely my top, isn’t it?” he asked Makkachin, who was curled up on his lap until he saw Viktor. Yuuri stretched his legs out, willing the blood flow to return to his feet, keeping his eyes on Viktor where he placated a bouncing Makkachin with cooed, honeyed words in Russian. It was as if Viktor had been gone for weeks rather than a couple of hours.

Yuuri’s breath left him in a rush as he watched Viktor drop to his knees to rub Makkachin’s stomach as soon as he rolled over, the softness in his eyes reminding him simultaneously of the way he’d felt every time Vicchan had showered him with love, and the way Viktor would look at him. It was that moment, with Viktor baby-talking at Makkachin, crouching low to ruffle through his curls, that Yuuri definitively fell.

“Come on, Yuuri!” Viktor called out. The early afternoon light fell around him, and he smiled at Yuuri as if the entire world hadn’t just changed around him. “We’re going walkies on the beach,” he continued with a grin, and Makkachin yapped before scrabbling to his feet and placing his paws on Viktor’s thighs.

Yuuri closed his eyes before nodding, wondering how he’d be able to say goodbye to Viktor after it was over, and tried not to read too much into it when Viktor took his hand.

–

There wasn’t much in the way of choreography that went on when they pair skated. Yuuri figured it would come together at some point, but for the time being it was playing and messing about as a break from proper training. Yuuri had gotten back into pole dancing (when he was alone and far from Viktor—he was lucky that one of Minako’s studios had a pole and Viktor trusted him enough to leave him to it unquestioned) to build up his core again, and Viktor commented happily on his improvements, placing his hand on Yuuri’s abdomen as he complimented him, and backing away with a self-satisfied smile when Yuuri stammered his thanks.

Yuuri wasn’t blind. He knew what was going on between them, the push and pull, the coy glances and lingering touches, but he knew that the less he delved into his relationship with Viktor, the less it would hurt when they separated.

Or maybe it would hurt more, to not have dived in head-first and taken everything he could in the time he had. What had he to lose? He wasn’t a virgin, it wouldn’t be the first time he got hurt by someone, and he knew he wasn’t weak enough to pine over someone for years after they separated. It would hurt like hell for a few months, but he’d get over it.

“I’ve been thinking a bit about the choreography,” Viktor said as they skated around the rink, hands clasped together.

“Which?”

“For the pair skate.” He changed direction and Yuuri followed. “What would you say to skating my free skate for the exhibitions in the qualifiers, and we change it to a pair skate at the final as a surprise to the audience?”

He lit up like a child when he spoke about surprising the audience, and Yuuri’s heart ached a little. He lived for it, for the love he got from the public and the way they would gasp in wonder as he stole their hearts again and again.

“You wouldn’t mind? Me skating your programme, I mean.”

Viktor coaxed him into a lift, but slipped just as he lowered him, grabbing at Yuuri’s waist and cursing as he pulled them both onto the ice. Yuuri’s stomach lurched uncomfortably; it was always startling to fall backwards, but he could almost forget the pain as he landed when he fell against Viktor’s chest.

“Are you okay?” Yuuri asked in alarm, trying to spin round to look at him, but arms settled around his waist to halt him.

“I’m fine,” Viktor answered. “I’ve had worse falls than this.” His chin settled against Yuuri’s shoulder and he pulled Yuuri back so he was cradled by his arms and legs.

"I'd be honoured if you skated my programme for the exhibitions," he said, a casual yet completely sincere tone in his voice. He could probably feel just how much Yuuri was blushing just from the heat in his cheeks. “I was going to talk to the woman who composed _Stammi Vicino_ and ask her to write a different arrangement. A duet. She’s very quick so we could start the choreography before your regional competition.”

“A duet?”

“Something more… hopeful.”

Yuuri pretended that he imagined the lips pressed against his neck for the shortest second.

“Hopeful,” he echoed, as Viktor finally pulled them both to their feet. “I like the sound of that.”


End file.
